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Friday

Fridays can be hard to get through. Mostly because one is thinking about all the wonderful things one will do and accomplish on one’s two days off. Sunday nights are often a wakeup call for one when one realizes how much one did not accomplish during the break from employment responsibilities.

Or Sunday night is a go-to-sleep call because of all the funzies one had during the weekend in which one does not participate mid-week. It makes one realize that one is not as young as one once was.

Yet one still looks forward to Fridays. One looks forward to a paycheck, or perhaps an evening out on the town, or sleeping in on the glorious Saturday morning. Or perhaps one is going on a trip, or will have out-of-town guests. Or perhaps…well, perhaps one just doesn’t want to go to work sometimes.

Fridays can be a bit of a paradox. The overwhelming majority of the time one is sad when something ends, may it be the lease to one’s first apartment, a relationship, a life. But the end of the week usually brings nothing but unhindered joy, relief, relaxation, et cetera.

Why? one might ask. This question at the onset may seem simple. One is happy because one has two days to do whatever the hell one wants. But the question goes deeper than that. Why does one work if one would rather be doing something else?